


Crossing The Helm Of Awe

by wickedrum



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 05:36:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19941076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedrum/pseuds/wickedrum
Summary: Just a little snippet depicting a secret meeting between Ubbe and Alfred. Missing scene in my headcanon. Set: Season 5 just before Alfred discovers his brother’s funeral.





	Crossing The Helm Of Awe

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers: I barely own my knickers. When I am writing, it's mainly for my own pleasure.  
> Note: Historical Alfred probably had Crohn’s Disease. Not something anybody would know much to do with back then, that’s for sure.

Ubbe was not a particularly patient person, though more patient than some, and reconciled with the fact that stealth oftentimes required patience. Still he got rather annoyed and twitchy when it took him practically a full day’s time till he could slip into Alfred’s chambers undetected. It did not used to be like this. Although Judith always hovered way too close for Ubbe’s liking, the Viking could unfailingly find a time during any evening of the last few months when he could conclude a private visit with the young King. Guards spotting him was not a problem, Alfred had made sure of that, but Ubbe being Ubbe who liked to make a sport out of everything did persist on keeping himself invisible to anyone when entering or leaving the King’s protected rooms. 

This time however, he had to eventually give in and slip so obviously past a couple of guards if he wanted to check on the ailing King at all. It has been a small miracle already that both Judith and the wife had left the invalid’s bedroom at the same time, along with any healers or members of the clergy the place was usually teeming with. Ubbe did not want to miss his only chance to find the King of Wessex and Mercia alone. Hoping that the women’s departure was a sign that they weren’t so worried about their boy anymore because Alfred was feeling better, Ubbe ventured to stand by the side of the bed and called out to attract the seemingly sleeping man’s attention.

If Ubbe was honest with himself, the boy-king did not look particularly well. Alfred was lying pale and limp, his forehead creasing with a frown giving away his pain. Ubbe wasn’t unfamiliar with it. The young ruler was adept at hiding it and perhaps only those closest to him would notice his discomfort most of the time, but the Viking’s warrior skills included reading his opponent and during the months he’d spent with him training the to be Warrior King, Ubbe had learnt the subtle signs of his illness getting worse, the way he held himself, how his fingers dug into his palms, frequent swallows or a delay in an answer or movement. The nobles have always complained about how this sickly king was not suitable, but the more time the second son of Ragnar had spent with the Anglo-Saxon King, the more respect he had for him. Alfred might not have been leading his army himself very often, yet his battles were numerous and daily, forcing a non-cooperative body to appear normal, behave like a king, wield a weapon like a king. At first, it reminded him of Ivar, now he couldn’t compare the two because Alfred had nothing to do in the same sentence as vengeance or self-servience. 

Ubbe shook his head, unsatisfied with his lack of success in rousing his friend. All he could elicit was a quiet moan and Alfred shifting uncomfortably. The Viking warrior did not like this, did not like it one bit, nor the herb infused cloth that lay on the younger man’s exposed stomach. If the King was still so ill, then why was he left on his own like this? To get confirmation of Alfred’s condition, Ubbe sat on the bed so he could reach and tap the handsome boy’s cheek lightly with the back of his hand, checking his temperature. To his surprise at this point, Alfred leaned into the touch, blinking bleary eyes open. “Ubbe?” He was just as startled as the other, though his sluggishness disguised it. 

“Easy, take care, can I call someone for you?” The Viking offered despite his own wishes to be alone with him. Alfred’s comfort was more important. 

The young man shook his head slowly, “you’re not eager farming?”

“Do I look like someone who would settle down farming? That’s not what that whole thing was about, no matter what. It wasn’t for me.” The King nodded his understanding and admiration. Ubbe’s claim to those lands always sounded so personal and yet he would not use them. Alfred hadn’t realised afore. 

“The most important thing. How are you feeling?” Ubbe turned to what he came for.

Alfred did a reflexive self-inventory, “better.” He was hesitant to say more. Albeit known of by all the court, his illness had always been a taboo subject he was taught not to mention, but wasn’t this his mentor, the man who knew him at a visceral, elemental level due to the method of combat training Ubbe utilised. There was that day in the woods when his body could not be pushed any measure further and he ended up throwing up for the whole night, unable to uncurl from his protective position on the ground. Ubbe had been gentle with him then, surprisingly knowledgeable in regards to what herbs to make infusions from, how to make him comfortable, shield him from the elements. Alfred had let him, not as if he had any choice, let his instructor rub his belly, bundle and clean him up. The incident could have spoiled their relationship by either making it awkward between them or having Ubbe deciding Alfred was unworthy like many before him did, but it actually strengthened their relationship, made it more close and instantly more warm and natural. It was the basis of the many intimate nights spent talking at Winchester and yet now he wasn’t so sure about revealing everything for his illness Alfred still found embarrassing. 

“So don’t you need that compress changed?” Ubbe looked around for the bowl to freshen it in, still bewildered by the lack of carers around the King.

“It has come to mind, could do with that,” Alfred admitted. Now that the stomach cramps plaguing him have eased, the compress was actually helpful to alleviate the remaining ache. 

“You should know that I was really worried for you,” Ubbe was straight with the reveal, “are these attacks getting worse?” He smoothed the cloth out on the other’s abdomen, letting his hand linger in hopes it gave the Saxon comfort. 

“No, just the usual here,” Alfred dismissed the question quickly as something else caught his attention as the fog around his head started to clear, “help me up!”

“What? Why? I don’t think that’s the best…”

“Do you hear that! The bells, for a funeral!”

“And nobody’s here. So it’s starting to make sense,” Ubbe accepted, along with the hand Alfred held out to be pulled up. It proved to be not enough support. The King grunted and raised his head, but his other hand snaked towards his belly as the sudden movement elicited too much pain. “But I’ll take you,” the Viking offered and began to position himself so that he could lift the younger man.

“No, no, nobody should see such a thing in the royal court, me being carried, you do understand!” Alfred was horrified, “help me up.”

Ubbe leaned down again with a humho and this time placed his arm under Alfred’s back, effectively lifting him up as he had initially planned, but then placed him down slowly and carefully onto his feet, cradling the smaller man to offer much needed balance. His head dizzy, Alfred leaned against the broad chest for a while, waiting for the world to stop spinning. His legs were also jello, but he already knew how he would feel standing up, he’s been through these attacks enough. He’ll just have to push through it like he’d pushed himself away from Ubbe, “I think I need to go find out what’s happening. Can you come back? Tonight? I will send everyone away.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to leave the bed?”

“Didn’t you tell me to believe in myself? I am the King. You must understand, the people need to see me as soon as possible, especially if there was some tragedy,” Alfred was firm, already more in control of his actions, determination fitting a king.

“I’ll be here for you,” Ubbe assured with a nod. 

The End.


End file.
